


Minecraft But Ranboo Has an Even Worse Day

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [33]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (saying because the amount of times i've almost accidentally done that, (side note i have injured both my middle fingers), AU, Arrows, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Broken Bones, Crying, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Fevers, Food mention, Gen, Hospitals, Hot Chocolate, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Multiple Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Multiple Pronouns for Toby Smith | Tubbo (Video Blogging RPF), Near character death, Oxygen Masks, Poisoning, Screaming, Surgery, TWs:, Unconsciousness, Unless Stated Otherwise, Whump, all the galactic is translated after the fic, also the prompt is the one that i pulled from online, arrow wounds, broken fingers, but i don't remember where it came from, especially with this fandom), graphic depictions of pain, i probably misclicked, if i ever have a relationship listed rather than a friendship, is too many to count, just a note, references to trauma, sorry y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: Ranboo has never been one to really hang out with the others. He helps film, yes, but he doesn’t really stay in the server house. Actually, no one knows where he even lives.So, him showing up, bloody and barely conscious, is something that no one really expects.
Relationships: Eret & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Wilbur Soot
Series: Dream Team Fics (Lol So Original) [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012464
Comments: 27
Kudos: 827
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Minecraft But Ranboo Has an Even Worse Day

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a random whump prompt I looked up on the Internet because I’m tired and I didn’t really think writing out one of my other ideas would be okay because those are long ones and I don’t feel like that right now. As a result, I have no clue how long this is and I’m not going to look.   
> This may be separated into its own mini-series, depending on whether or not you want some kind of continuation of it. Since it’s just been typed out, there are no guarantees that there will be anything more than just the whump itself.   
> Also, if you have read “Minecraft, but it’s Broom Hockey”, then that line Bad says about the server house and Ranboo not living in it was written with this in mind!  
> Anyways, TWs in tags. Let’s jump into this!

Prompt: It’s raining and the whumpee is slowly walking to their place. They shiver and cough as they drag themselves to the front door and knock. The caretaker opens and gasps at the sight of them. Coughing and wheezing, the whumpee steps one foot in the house and collapses immediately. The caretaker lays a hand on their forehead and realises the whumpee has a dangerously high fever

+

Rain smattered down around him, burning his shoulders, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Besides, rain was hardly the worst thing he had to deal with right now, and he only had the worst of it when he stepped between the gaps of the trees lining the path. Dream had brought someone in from another server—something something with Scar, it was along those lines—to build some nice paths just around the server house and the spots where everyone had built their own things. It wasn’t because he didn’t think the SMP folks could do it, he’d just hired Scar when they were off filming. To celebrate…something. Ranboo couldn’t actually remember what it was they were celebrating.

He couldn’t remember where he was going, either.

His feet were working on auto-pilot, dragging over the stone bricks. Rivulets of water ran in between the stones, falling into the gaps and rippling with tiny little eddies as more drops thudded down on them. It was pretty, for something that hurt so much. Red and purple and blue dripped from his fingers, coming from the wounds to his side and back and chest.

Breathing hurt.

His back and shoulders hurt, he’d dragged himself up…something. Whatever it was, he didn’t remember (his brain was foggier than the path around him). Maybe it didn’t matter, but his hands were bleeding. Bleeding and torn up and one of the fingers was bent oddly and _hurt_. It looked like someone had just taken the tip and the joint below that and jerked it to the side, leaving it dangling uselessly from his hand. Pretty numb, although it hurt like nothing else when he touched it.

Everything hurt.

Suddenly he was face-down in a puddle, and everything hurt more. Water dripped along his back and shoulders, down his neck and onto his cheek. It pressed into his other cheek, seeping into the scrapes left by wet rocks and burning, burning, _burning_ fire-bright. Considering the change in between fire and water, it was almost ironic. He would have laughed if everything didn’t _hurt so much._

Lying in the rain and mud, Ranboo sucked in a wheezing breath.

Placing a hand on the wet gravel of the street, without any gloves or other protection, was agonising even without theatrics. Sharp, raspy breaths were sucked in through gritted teeth as he forced himself upright, ignoring the stinging cuts on his palms where the dirt was beginning to get in. That wouldn’t be good. A shuddery breath shook him, and he almost began crying. But he had to keep moving.

He had to get to…wherever he was walking.

Swallowing, he shivered and tried to stick to the gaps in between the rain. To the brief respites between the painful onslaught of storm and water. Another shiver rattled his shoulders as he coughed, a wet sound that seemed rather fitting for the situation.

Rubbing at his eyes with one sleeve, he looked around at the rain-wreathed landscape shrouding his vision. A shuddery gasp wracked his shoulders, and he coughed again before stumbling on through the rain.

He had to get there.

+++

“Tommy, I know you want to see if he’s coming,” Wilbur began, walking over to where his little brother was staring obsessively out the window, “but if it’s raining, I don’t think he’ll want to risk walking out there.”

“I know.” Tommy mused, shifting slightly and resting his chin on his arm. “But I just…I can’t shake the feeling something’s wrong. You know?” Turning, he met Wilbur’s gaze, and Wilbur blinked a few times before looking ahead. “Besides, I thought he said he was going to try and stay in the server house more.”

“Well, maybe he just needed to grab something.” Tubbo added helpfully, walking over with some hot chocolate Bad had made. Settling down in the bay window by Tommy, he pulled his legs up and offered his friend a mug. Smiling, Tommy took it, then turned back to the scene outside. Rain thundered down, and lightning cracked the sky in half. “I’m sure he’ll be right here, Tommy.”

Looking out at the rain, Tommy shrugged.

Stepping away with a sigh, Wilbur left the pair and went over to where Dream, George, Sapnap, and Bad were sitting on the couch. Bad had Eret’s head in his lap, fingers stroking through her hair. Earlier, they’d had to reassure her everything was fine, that nothing was wrong with Ranboo and that he’d just be right back. The young man had just gone out for a short moment, and no one really knew where he was but they knew he was supposed to be coming back at some point.

Unless he wasn’t. Ranboo wasn’t the kind of person to _lie_ , especially not to his friends, despite what his character did in the series. He was almost always on time, a hard worker, and he still could joke around with Tommy and Tubbo in a way that just meant he fit. He belonged with the server, and everyone knew that. Despite that, he was also a pretty private person. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. After all, Techno’s room usually had a pretty thick layer of dust. Ant and Velvet spent their time away from everyone else, as did a lot of the others who only appeared on the wings of the series, rather than upfront like Tommy or Dream or the others. Manhunts and speedruns and the like occasionally brought them out, mostly to help film, but other than that…they didn’t really appear. There wasn’t any obligation to use the server house. Most of the time, the rooms were abandoned for the sake of the main room (the amount of times that Techno had come back to find the crew sleeping scattered around the couches like fallen leaves couldn’t be counted on hands or feet anymore, there’d been so many).

“Are they sleeping?” Wilbur asked, nodding to Eret. When Bad nodded, he did as well, then took a breath. “Tommy has a feeling something’s wrong. I’d hate to be a cause for concern, but part of me is wondering if maybe he’s right.”

“I can go look for Ranboo.” Dream volunteered, beginning to get up. Reaching up, Sapnap grabbed one hoodie sleeve and George took the other, and both of them yanked Dream back to the couch. “Or not?”

“You’re still nursing a broken ankle. If you think I’m letting you out when there’s _lightning_ and rain, then you’re apparently nursing a concussion as well.” George replied dryly, laying on Dream and scrolling through his phone. Looking to Wilbur, Dream made a face and shrugged.

“I was suggesting that I head out instead. I can get a horse, grab Techno, and then we can start riding around looking for him.” Glancing outside, Wilbur added, “If he’s outside in this weather, that can’t be good for him. Even if he weren’t part Enderman.”

“Just be careful? Please?” Bad asked, and Wilbur glanced down and smiled at him, nodding.

“Techno.” From where he was stood to the side, talking to Phil, Techno looked up. Waving a hand, Wilbur started striding for the kitchen. “We need to talk.”

Hurrying over, Techno asked, “something up with Ranboo?”

Glancing over to see that Phil was currently distracting Tommy and Tubbo, Wilbur turned to meet his gaze. “I’m worried that something may have happened to Ranboo. Tommy’s got a bad feeling, and Eret was stressed earlier. They might be onto something, and if Ranboo’s out in this kind of weather...” Shaking his head, he mused, “Well, it wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

“But especially not someone with his traits.” Nodding, Techno bit his knuckle for a moment, “Alright. I can get some of the horses ready. And a dog, too. Get something to track his scent.”

Nodding, Wilbur led the way from the house, Techno right behind.

From the bay window, Tommy looked up and watched them, a slight frown marking his features.

+++

He couldn’t breathe.

Stumbling to the side, unsteady, he sucked in a ragged breath as more water poured down onto his shoulders. It hurt, even though it hadn’t gotten too bad yet. Still, he could feel his body starting to give in.

Everyone thought he avoided rain because it hurt him quickly, like it did other Endermen. Sure, he found it annoying, but it didn’t kill him like it could them. Not fast, at least. No, he could walk for— _had walked for_ —hours in rain with nothing more than nonstop pain.

Of course, his current injuries weren’t helping.

Something collided with his ankle and he went down. Rocks and gravel scraped against his cheek as he slid into what he was pretty sure was a ditch of some sort. A low, keening noise fought its way from his throat, and he curled onto his side, choking out a few words, “S𝙹ᒲᒷ𝙹リᒷ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡.” A gasp left him and he curled up even more, staring at the multicoloured shades painting his hands and the rocks where he slid down. Even as he stared, the rain washed it away, “S𝙹ᒲᒷ𝙹リᒷ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡!”

No one answered.

Behind him, something trampled the wet fallen leaves, and he tilted his head to see something striding up. “Hᒷꖎ!¡, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ.” He whispered, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. The thing came closer, dipping its head ever so slightly. “Hᒷꖎ!¡.” Pain split through his body. A muzzle brushed against his shoulder and he gasped, jerking away, as the pain reared its head again. “Hᒷꖎ!¡, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ.” His breath rattled through his chest, and he felt the beast pull away. As it did, panic tightened his chest and he fought to get upright, calling, “N𝙹, リ𝙹, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. Pꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. Hᒷꖎ!¡. I'ᒲ ᓭ𝙹∷∷||, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ, i リᒷᒷ↸ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡ ╎ℸ ̣ ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣ ᓭ.”

Through the rain, he saw the beast standing over him. With a flick of its tail, it turned and began to walk away. Crying, he reached for it and everything started to blur around him. “N𝙹! N𝙹, リ𝙹, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. Pꖎᒷ”ᔑᓭᒷ.”

Gasping, he tried to drag himself upright, felt his knee buckle underneath him. Mud and water soaked into his clothes, and he stumbled to the side. Something hard smacked into his shoulder, and he went down with a gasp. Wheezing, he pressed a hand to his ribs and looked ahead.

There was a light through the trees.

Swallowing, Ranboo stared at the light for a moment. It didn’t fade. His eyes wandered around him, at the tree he’d bashed his shoulder into. Reaching up, he traced some words carved into the bark in Galactic, a decision made one day when bored. _T_ _𝙹_ _ᒲᒲ_ _||, t_ _⚍_ _ʖʖ_ _𝙹_ _,_ _ᔑ_ _リ_ _↸_ _r_ _ᔑ_ _リ_ _ʖ_ _𝙹𝙹_ _∴_ _ᒷ_ _∷_ _ᒷ_ _⍑_ _ᒷ_ _∷_ _ᒷ_ _._ Coughing, he spat something hot out to the ground and braced himself against the tree.

Taking a breath, he grabbed the lowest branch and dragged himself upright. Fire stabbed through his knee, jolting up to his hip. For a moment, his vision blackened and he almost collapsed, eyes wide. Wet bark dug into his fingers, and he held himself steady for a moment before limping down the path towards the light.

“Ranboo!” Someone yelled, and he paused, leaning against the tree. The voice was close, familiar. “Ranboo!”

“Come on, we gotta get you home!” Another voice shouted. Somewhere, hooves thudded against muddy, rocky soil. “Ranboo!”

He heard a deep breath being taken, someone bellowing, _“Ranboo!”_ Cautiously, he took a step towards them, lightheadedness shrouding his vision. Just through the trees, he could see Wilbur and Techno on their horses, riding around and soaked.

Taking a shaky, ragged breath, Ranboo snapped his eyes shut and focused.

+++

Somewhere off to Wilbur’s left, an Enderman _screamed_.

Heads whipping to the side, he and Techno both looked into the trees. “Ranboo!” Lifting his lantern, Wilbur tried to squint into the darkness. There was a sudden tightness in his chest, the lights dimmed like something was drawing the light away from the lantern and into itself. With a rush of air, something teleported right in front of their horses.

Rearing up and squealing, Wilbur’s horse shook its head and then landed with a heavy _thud_ in the dirt. “Ranboo!” Techno roared, leaping from his own horse and dropping to the ground beside the young man, who was now sprawled in the dirt and very, very bloody. Swearing, Techno pressed his fingers to Ranboo’s neck, raised his other arm with his cloak to shield the young man from the rain. Meanwhile, his horse stood by patiently, reins hanging in front of it. Wilbur pulled the reins over his own horse’s head, dropped them forwards to “tie” it to the ground, then grabbed the medkit they’d brought with them and darted to Ranboo and Techno’s side.

Ranboo’s face was pale enough that the black of his face had taken on a more ashy, charcoal grey shade. The white part had faded as well, red veins showing through more than they should have. Carefully, Techno ran his hands along Ranboo’s neck, under his spine and then carefully around his head. “How is he?” Wilbur asked, searching for bandages. For anything.

There was blood everywhere.

“No spinal fractures.” Techno’s head reached Ranboo’s cheek and the man’s face twitched. “His cheekbone’s broken.”

Swearing, Wilbur murmured, “This is reminding me of when he first came here.” He checked Ranboo’s pulse, biting his lower lip. It was there, fluttering weakly like a butterfly fresh out of a chrysalis, but there. Shoving back memories of blood, long nights, and unforgiving glares from sever doctors, Wilbur shook himself and turned back to Ranboo. Heat flooded from the young man in waves. “Ranboo? Can you hear us?” Wilbur asked softly, noting the way Ranboo’s eyes fluttered part of the way open. They were glassy. Almost like… _no, no. He’s not dying. He’ll be fine._ “Tech, we need to get him home.”

“On it.” Slowly, Techno began to move Ranboo, going gently to not aggravate the injuries Wilbur knew his brother could sense splashed across the young man’s body. He wrapped his cloak around the young man’s shoulders,

Ranboo started talking.

Barely comprehensibly, and not in Common, but still talking. “Pꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ...↸𝙹リ' ⍑'∷ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ.” The words barely left his lips, and his head fell against Techno’s shoulder as the man lifted him up.

Without even a hesitation, Techno replied in Galactic, “Sᔑ⎓ᒷ.” Techno stood, and Ranboo started crying out in pain. The whole while to the horse, Techno quietly reassured him with that one word over and over again.

Taking a shaky breath, Wilbur grabbed the lantern and led the way back to the base, glancing over his shoulder at Techno and Ranboo many times.

+++

By some miracle, Bad managed to get Eret, Tommy, and Tubbo to their rooms and in bed without too much fuss.

Reassuring each of them that he’d get them if Ranboo came back, Bad slipped downstairs to where the others were all currently gathered. “Alright, let’s be honest.” Phil mused, leaning against the table. Everyone kept their voices low, glancing furtively at the stairway every so often to make sure they didn’t have any eavesdroppers. “Ranboo’s probably hurt. If he wasn’t, he would’ve been here hours ago.”

“And Wilbur and Techno are looking for him.” Dream finished, holding up his hands. Swallowing, Bad went to the kitchen and began looking through the pantry for some food that Ranboo might need.

That was when everything went downhill.

There was a frantic knock, and then Wilbur shouldered open the door, and Techno came in holding a barely-conscious Ranboo in his arms.

The only reason any of them knew that Ranboo _wasn’t_ unconscious was the fact that he was breathing harshly, mumbling under his breath and begging. For what, Bad wasn’t sure. “Ranboo!” Niki hissed, moving forwards, and Bad snapped into action.

“Niki, Sapnap, go make sure that Tommy, Tubbo, and Eret do _not_ leave their rooms.” He ordered, sending them both looks. “Techno, Wilbur, go clean up,” both of them stared at him, eyes wide. Glaring at them, Bad repeated, “ _go clean up._ You’re not helping anyone and we need you two both there in case Niki and Sapnap can’t do their job. Go. Now! Minx, Fundy, Phil, go clean up and then come help me. George, Dream, we’re moving him to the table. Schlatt, Skeppy, get the medical supplies.”

Grabbing his arm, Wilbur hissed, “No spinal injuries but his cheekbone’s fractured. Just—just watch for that.”

Nodding, Bad hurried to the sink and washed his hands, rolling his sleeves up as far as he could. Dream and George carried Ranboo over to the table, moving things aside and then quickly helping strip his shirt off. He didn’t have many injuries to his leg, other than an arrow underneath his knee, so George started cutting his pants off right above that. “Dream, start boiling some water and get some towels. George, get his shoes off, too.” Nodding, George kept moving, Dream ducked into the kitchen and grabbed a pot.

Focusing down on what he was doing, Bad moved more on instinct. Fundy offered him an oxygen mask, mentioning the blue tinges to Ranboo’s lips, mentioning internal bleeding, the arrow to his chest and the one in his shoulder. Minx gently stroked Ranboo’s hair as they put him under, and he let out a quiet wheeze.

“Alright, he’s under. Dream, go wash up and help the others with you know who. George, you’re going to be helping us.” Nodding, both of them left again, and everyone split into the two groups. Either they were helping with Ranboo or they were helping with the people who couldn’t see him. “Minx, I want you monitoring the anaesthetic levels. We’re going to move to the major injuries first, then onto the smaller stuff. This is going to take a while. Schlatt, I need you to get some antibiotics ready for rain poisoning. How high is his fever?”

“Hundred and four.”

“Alright. We’re going to have to work quickly. I don’t like doing this when he’s that hot, but we don’t have a choice.” Looking down at Ranboo, Bad swallowed and then kept working. “We’ll start with the arrows, then move on to the collapsed lung.” As he spoke, he moved, cutting Ranboo’s shirt away in a smooth movement. “Then the slashes, and after that we need to work on that broken finger and the cheekbone. Scrapes and bruises come after that. We’ll do the internal bleeding as it comes and everything else is going to have to heal on its own.”

“Got it.” The others all started working, and Bad focused on the task ahead. Ranboo’s breathing was steady, everything was alright.

They had work to do.

+++

When Ranboo came to, he was lying on something soft and comfortable.

Bandages were wrapped around most of his body, and he felt something pressing down around his nose and mouth. There was a hand holding his right one, their fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of his skin. Along his other side, he could feel something pressing into his side right above his hip. Breath played out along those fingers, soft and in consistent little puffs. Like someone had fallen asleep waiting for him to wake up.

Slowly, slowly, he cracked his eyes open a bit and looked around. Phil was holding his hand, Tubbo slumped into side with their mouth hanging open as they snored softly. On the other side of the bed, Tommy’s head was resting next to Ranboo’s side, facedown on the mattress and drooling a little bit. Wrinkling his nose, Ranboo tilted his head to the other side where Phil was. In the back, right where his vision started to get a little fuzzy, he could see Techno and Wilbur slumped against one another on a bench, Eret laid across them like she’d strode in and flopped across them without a second thought.

Sunlight drifted in through the windows, catching on little dust particles in the air, and he blinked a few times at the bandages wrapped around his fingers. There were some over his nose and on his cheek, and his right hand had a splint on its middle finger. Dimly, he remembered the sensation of it having gone numb, other than a splintering pain every so often when it brushed something.

Swallowing, he forced out one word, “W⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ?”

Phil’s eyes darted to his, and his hand was gently squeezed. “H𝙹ᒲᒷ.” The accent was a little unfamiliar, but it still got the message across. Ranboo sucked in a few breaths, and then all of a sudden he was forcing his eyes open again after sleeping for some time. How long, exactly, he didn’t know.

Looking around, he grabbed onto the person sitting with him—Eret—and rasped something in Galactic. They replied with an inquisitive noise, and he swallowed before forcing his words into common. “What…’appened?” His throat ached, and Eret handed him a glass of water. The oxygen mask had been replaced by some tubes in his nose, and he took the glass with shaking hands before taking a sip. “Thank…you.”

Nodding, Eret slowly helped him sit up and he checked himself over. His hands were bandaged, but nothing hurt. Actually, he felt good enough to get up. “Don’t even think about it. You’re on painkillers.”

“Oh.” Lying back down, Ranboo stared at the ceiling for a bit. “What happened? I don’t…” Dimly, he remembered screaming, teleporting…somewhere. Being lifted and carried, then nothing more than someone telling him he was safe as red-hot pain flooded every inch and nerve of his being.

“You got hurt. Somewhere out there.” Smiling, Eret said, “you almost beat Tommy out for most injuries without an explanation.”

Staring at them, Ranboo decided, “I don’t even want to know.” He glanced down at his hands, then asked, “What were—what were my injuries, though?”

“Ah…fractured cheekbone. Broken middle finger—which, by the way, would have been an absolute meme if it weren’t for the fact that you were that badly hurt.” Eyes gazing down at Ranboo’s wrist as Eret checked him over, they continued, “Concussion, rain poisoning from exposure, a lot of bruising to your stomach and spine. A lot of scrapes, probably from tripping and falling. Your hands were pretty hamburgered—”

“I had to climb up a cliff.” Ranboo mentioned. Wincing audibly, Eret touched his arm again.

“For a few days you had a fever. Some walking pneumonia, which you’re still on antibiotics for. Then there were the arrows and the slashes.”

“Right.” Reaching back, Ranboo sucked in a breath when he moved too fast. Eret had him lie down again, and he settled into the bed with another breath.

“Yeah, the arrows caused a collapsed lung. One went through your chest.” Eret gave him a very specific look. “For a little while we weren’t sure you wouldn’t respawn. It was like…”

“Like when I arrived.” Eret nodded, and Ranboo looked ahead. “Damn.”

Snorting, Eret mused, “That’s an understatement.”

+++

Galactic— _Translation_

  1. S𝙹ᒲᒷ𝙹リᒷ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡



_Someone help._

  1. Hᒷꖎ!¡, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ.



_Help, please._

  1. Hᒷꖎ!¡.



_Help._

  1. N𝙹, リ𝙹, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. Pꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. Hᒷꖎ!¡. I'ᒲ ᓭ𝙹∷∷||, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ, i リᒷᒷ↸ ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡ ╎ℸ ̣ ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣ ᓭ.



_No, no, please. Please. Help. I’m sorry, please, I need help it hurts._

  1. N𝙹! N𝙹, リ𝙹, !¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ. Pꖎᒷ”ᔑᓭᒷ.



_No! No, please. Please._

  1. T𝙹ᒲᒲ||, t⚍ʖʖ𝙹, ᔑリ↸ rᔑリʖ𝙹𝙹 ∴ᒷ∷ᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ.



_Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo were here._

  1. Pꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ...↸𝙹リ' ⍑'∷ℸ ̣ ᒲᒷ.



_Please, don’ h’rt me_ (Extra translation: Please, don’t hurt me. Missing letters because of heavy blood loss and near-unconsciousness)

  1. Sᔑ⎓ᒷ.



_Safe._

  1. W⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ?



_Where?_

  1. H𝙹ᒲᒷ.



_Home._

**Author's Note:**

> Ending it where I did because it felt natural, might add in some other scenes where he’s recovering (and yes, I will eventually do a fic that involves Ranboo coming to the server because it’s a fun backstory and someone’s asked about it. Well, I say fun. Fun for whump lovers, not so much for the characters, but evidently Ranboo is an angst…I’m not going to say fan, but there’s some word there [I saw that on the boundaries tumblr, I follow it since respecting the creators=very important to me]. Anyways, you’ll be getting that at some point). If you want to know what the scream probably sounded like, since Ranboo makes Enderman noises I went on the wiki and picked the first one (top left) on the little audio selections under “Sounds” with the Namespaced ID of “entity.enderman.scream”. Also, the little Enderman vwoops (this is on a tangent but whatever) are very cute sounding.   
> Anyways, thanks for reading, I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope to see you in the next one!


End file.
